Probably Wouldn't Be This Way
by RayneDancer
Summary: Trowa has a talk with a certain someone. Someone who left him and won't come back.


Disclaimer: Don't own Gundam Wing or any characters involved in this story. Don't own the song by Leann Rimes either. But plot YES! I do own that.

Rating: Past 3x4

This is my first attempt at a songfic, so the lyrics might not perfectly match up with the story, but try to go with it! It's the message that counts

Song: "I Probably Wouldn't Be This Way" by Leann Rimes

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Probably Wouldn't Be This Way

"_Got a date a week from Friday with a preacher's son_

_Everybody says he's crazy_

_I'll have to wait and see_

_I finally moved to Jackson when the summer came_

_I won't have to pay that boy to rake my leaves."_

The sun would soon be starting to peek over the horizon. In the next few minutes the sky would be ablaze in colors of pinks and yellows, but for now it was a grayish pink hue. A house stood at the base of a green hill and the kitchen door, leading out into the backyard, could be seen slowly opening.

A tall figure quickly ducked out and quietly shut the door. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark green jacket, he inhaled deeply and then released it. He watched in light amusement as his breath danced in front of him. It was a particularly brisk autumn morning.

Before beginning his walk, he took a look up at the trees which were in peak color. Even though the sun wasn't yet up, he could see the latent brilliance of the leaves. Taking another breath in, he closed his eyes and reveled in the smells of fall. The telltale smell of snow was beginning to tinge the edges of it and the light acrid smell of woodstoves was also present.

Taking a few looks around, he continued his walk. His feet crunched over the remains of fallen leaves. Thinking to himself, he wondered if he should rake soon.

The backyard of his house edged the forest.

He followed a well worn trail, all the time looking happily at any small animals that past his way or at the deer that were near camouflaged in the trees. Birds began to wake and sing their songs to the sun which was now gracing the land with its warmth.

The trail slowly started to slope upwards. He could feel his breath coming quicker. The cold air tickled his lungs, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. He knew the view at the top was all worth it.

Reaching the top, his eyes opened wide at the beauty stretched out before him. Below him was a valley filled with the organized rows of harvested crops and hay bales. The rising sun cast elongated shadows on everything. Edging the horizon, was row after row of rolling mountains covered in autumn's colors. A golden tint from the sun made everything twice as brilliant. Small ponds graced the landscape and mist gently rose off of them, mist soon to be burned off by the warming sun.

His previous happy smile slowly began to turn into a frown. Averting his eyes, he didn't want to recognize the presence. Finally, he felt as if he had no choice.

"Somehow I knew you'd be here," he said coldly. "I suppose I was hoping to see you, yet at the same time, hoping not to see you."

He received no response.

"The day is beautiful isn't it? The weather station said it would be sunny the rest of the week," he shrugged, attempting small talk.

Again, he received no response.

"Quatre, why do you do this every time! We finally meet after all of this time yet you never have anything to say. I'm trying here!" he outburst.

"I'm sorry," a voice carried faintly on the breeze.

"This is all your fault you know," he continued bitterly, barely acknowledging the response. "You left. I told you not to go. I said I loved you. You said you loved me back, but you left anyway! Why did you do that?" he started to raise his voice. Taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself down. Sidestepping over to a large gray boulder, he sat down.

"I had no choice," was whispered on the wind.

"Of course you had a choice! There are always choices! It just hurts so bad. I never pictured every minute without you in it. When you left, you left so fast. There was barely even time for a goodbye! Why would you do that to me," at this point, tears began to well up in his eyes.

He though he heard a sad sigh echo from near him, and he figured that was the most response he'd get for now. There was so much he still needed to say, so he broke the awkward silence that had settled.

"You know, some days, I feel like I'm so lucky to have known you and to feel your love, but then," he took a deep breath, "there are other days when I wish I had never met you," he choked out, his breath hitching on his tears due to his confession.

"You must think me mad," he chuckled, with an edge of sarcasm to it. "I always used to be the silent one. I don't know what's gotten into me lately. I just seem to go on and on these days. Ever since you left," he spat out bitterly. He still felt the need to continue.

"_I'm probably going on and on_

_It seems I'm doing more of that these days."_

"Remember how we met? How could anyone forget," he snorted ruefully a few minutes later, his tears abating for the moment.

"During that battle, you called out to me, a complete stranger, that we shouldn't be fighting. Seeing as I was out of ammunition anyway, I felt the best idea was surrender. I saw you come out of your cockpit and heard your voice and immediately I felt a connection to you. Never in my past had I felt close enough to anyone to call them my friend, but in one instant, you had changed all of that. Then over the next few days you showed me hospitality and taught me that some people can be trusted. When we played music together—we didn't just play our instruments. I believe we connected on a plane outside of this world. All I knew at the moment was you, me, and the sound of our harmony. I swear Quatre, even though I left you that afternoon, I knew I had fallen in love with you already," he smiled lightly as he reminisced.

"But perhaps," he continued slowly, his mood turning. "Perhaps if I had never met you it would've been for the best. If I had never met you, I probably wouldn't be this way now. Only an empty shell of myself, a lifeless drone," he said narrowing his eyes. "I don't even think you realize the extent of what you've done," he said quietly angry.

Silence was his only response this time.

"_I probably wouldn't be this way_

_I probably wouldn't hurt so bad_

_I never pictured every minute without you in it_

_Oh You left so fast_

_Sometimes I see you standing there_

_Sometimes it's like I'm losing touch_

_Sometimes I feel like I'm so lucky to have had the chance to_

_love this much_

_God gave me a moment's grace_

_'Cause if I'd never seen your face_

_I probably wouldn't be this way"_

"It's been hard Quatre. It was especially hardest right after you left. We were all trying to figure out what we had done wrong. When I finally found out where you were, the others looked at me like I was crazy. After speaking to you a few times, the others told me to stop. That it wasn't good for me. They told me to just move on with my life. But tell me, how am I supposed to move on with my life when YOU were my life!" he burst out, standing up abruptly from his boulder.

"Every morning I woke to see your face, every night I fell asleep to dream about you and me. After that God forsaken war was over, I lived so you and I could be together! Don't you see?" he continued yelling.

His voice then dropped an octave, and he continued softly "So don't you see. I couldn't just 'move on' as they told me to. The pain of you deciding to go was just too great." He turned away and sat back down on the rock, letting his hands rest lightly in his lap. His eyes, still full of sad and angry tears, locked on to the ground.

"_Mama says that I just shouldn't speak to you_

_Susan says that I should just move on"_

He sighed as a few clouds started to roll over the early morning sun. The shadows disappeared from the valley and the morning suddenly grew colder. A small shiver ran down his spine.

"I remember the night you left," he allowed his mind to wander back to that night. "We all were sharing dinner. You seemed preoccupied, now that I look back. Your face was paler than it usually was and every so often your hand was at your chest. I couldn't understand why. When asked, you denied any claim that you weren't all right. Finally, after pushing around all the food on your plate, you admitted that you weren't feeling well. You left to go upstairs and lay down. I told you I'd be up in a minute to make sure you didn't need anything. You gave me that bright smile of yours before continuing up the stairs slowly," he stopped for a moment.

His face got darker.

The wind started to pick up and brown dead leaves fell all around him, shaken from their branches.

"After about half hour, I excused myself from the conversation and went upstairs to check on you. When I opened our bedroom door, I found you collapsed on the floor. You scared me so much!" he let out with another choked cry. "I screamed for the others as I went to your side. They came rushing in and the ambulance was called. I've never spent a more agonizing night of waiting. The others stayed with me.

Finally, after hours of not seeing you, the doctor came out. I couldn't understand what he was saying. The only thing I noticed was the others looking shocked and beginning to cry. I just couldn't understand it though. All I heard was something about a 'heart attack' and 'not making it', but then why…

…why were you standing right beside the doctor?

You looked at me with those blue eyes of yours and I felt the room disappear around me. All that was left was you and me. You looked sad when you suddenly said you had to go. I begged you to stay. I pleaded. I told you I loved you with all my heart! But in the end you only said you loved me too, but there was no other way—you had no other choice. You gave me a sad smile and leaned over to kiss my cheek.

Then," he spoke in a whisper, "you were gone."

"_You oughta see the way these people look at me_

_When they see me 'round here talking to this stone_

_Everybody thinks I've lost my mind_

_But I just take it day by day"_

He lightly touched his cheek where he could feel the ghost of an angel's kiss. "Everyone thinks I've lost my mind Quatre. Without you with me, I'm nothing and nobody," he sniffed, trying vainly to keep the tears from trickling down his cheeks.

"_I probably wouldn't be this way_

_I probably wouldn't hurt so bad_

_I never pictured every minute without you in it_

_Oh You left so fast_

_Sometimes I see you standing there_

_Sometimes I feel an angel's touch_

_Sometimes I feel like I'm so lucky to have had the chance to_

_love this much_

_God gave me a moment's grace_

_'Cause if I'd never seen your face_

_I probably wouldn't be this way"_

"Trowa! Yo Tro where are ya!"

He quickly wiped the remaining tears off his face and turned towards the sound of one of his friends crashing loudly through the underbrush.

"There you are man! Geez, it's only 8 in the morning. Couldn't you have waited until at least 10 to go for a walk?" Duo panted from his climb up the trail. The chilled morning air had turned his nose and cheeks a light pink, a smile spread across his face for finding Trowa. That normally cheery smile quickly left his face when he realized where they were.

"Oh, Trowa…," he started sadly.

Trowa maintained his position on the boulder, eyes averted to the ground. The sun had not come out again from behind the clouds and the world had turned cold and gray.

"I know you're still mad at Quatre Duo, but you should still greet him. It's only polite. We've been having a talk. I think he finally understands what he did to all of us. Maybe with the two of us here, we can convince him to come home," Trowa suddenly turned pleading eyes up to Duo.

Duo's sad violet eyes met Trowa's gaze for a moment before moving over Trowa's shoulder. There, nearly hidden now by the fall leaves lay a gravestone. Duo knew the words carved on there by heart—

Quatre Raberbra Winner. Born AC 180 Died AC 201. Beloved husband, friend, and brother.

The eyes of Trowa Barton Winner continued to stare at Duo Maxwell. He twisted his body to see what Duo was looking at.

"Dammit Quatre! Why did you leave again?" Trowa yelled, standing up, pointing his finger towards the gravestone. "Duo, he was just there! We were talking and everything! Why does he always leave! Why did he have to go," Trowa continued yelling angrily, before he started to sob.

"Duo? Why did he have to go?" his voice turned heart wrenchingly sad, as he dejectedly dropped his hand back to his side. Not having the strength to hold himself up anymore, he collapsed to his knees and buried his face in his hands.

His sobs wracked his tall frame and Duo nervously looked at his friend. Gingerly, Duo knelt in front of Trowa and put a hand on Trowa's shoulder. Realizing it wasn't enough, Duo tentatively enveloped Trowa in his arms. Trowa obviously wasn't himself—hadn't been since Quatre's death a few weeks ago—Duo didn't know how he would react to the touch. But Trowa immediately leaned against Duo and continued releasing his broken sobs.

"I don't know Trowa. I don't know why it had to be him. Why it had to be one of the good ones. I wish I did, but I don't know. One day we'll see him again though. And now he'll always be with us watching over us," Duo tried to soothe, but his words were broken up by his own tears. He was telling Trowa the same thing he told himself every night after they had lost Quatre, his best friend. If only they truly helped to alleviate some of this pain.

After a few minutes, the sobs from Trowa started to lessen. Duo released him from his embrace and wiped the few tears that had managed to leak down his own face.

He noticed Trowa shiver.

"We should go back down to the house. It's getting cold up here and Heero and Wufei will start to wonder where we went," Duo started before standing up. He offered his hand down to Trowa. After a few hesitant moments, Trowa slowly reached up and gripped the offered hand, allowing Duo to pull him to his feet.

Vaguely Trowa heard Duo start talking again--something about all of them wanting to talk to Trowa about something. They all thought maybe Trowa should try speaking to someone—to make him feel better. Trowa only half heartedly listened. He didn't feel he had anything left to say. Trowa's tears had been cried and once again, that placid indifferent face so common to him had fallen back into place.

Slowly the sun started to break through the clouds once more and Trowa stopped walking and watched as Duo stopped walking as well and turned around to look at Trowa in confusion.

Trowa sadly turned around to look once more at the gravestone of his young, late husband. But there, standing beside the stone, was Quatre—right where he was standing before while Trowa was talking. It was only now though Trowa realized he could see the autumn trees through his beloved.

"Quatre…" Trowa whispered reverently.

"I'm so sorry Trowa," Quatre whispered, with a sad smile on his face. "I wish I hadn't had to leave so soon or so fast. Know that I will always love you…" the airy whisper started to trail off as the vision of Quatre slowly began to dissipate with the sun—like the mist rising off of the lakes.

A gentle wind blew past Trowa as the morning sun began to warm his face once more. Closing his eyes, he could almost feel Quatre's fingers gently brushing aside his hair and Quatre's lips planting a small graceful kiss on his cheek.

Yet when Trowa opened his eyes, all he saw this time was the lone gravestone. The ache in his heart only grew deeper. For at that moment, he realized his love—was dead. And he was never coming back…

Turning back, he saw Duo watching him expectantly, his brow furrowed slightly in confusion and curiousity. Trowa supposed Duo had seen nothing.

"Quatre," Trowa whispered, fresh tears coursing down his cheeks, his heart twisting in agony, "Quatre, won't you please…

…come back. "

"_Got A Date a week from Friday with a preacher's son_

_Everybody says I'm crazy_

_Guess I'll have to wait and see_."

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Ok everyone. Hope I didn't make too many people cry—actually I hope I did because I tried really hard to make this full of angst and heartbreak. If you cried I succeeded! You know, as I was writing this, I seem to remember promising my two friends I'd never kill Quatre—OOPS! Sorry Rachel and Kristin! Also I know it's unusual for a 21 year old to die from a heartattack, but Quatre has that empathy thing. Something, I know I didn't elaborate, made his empathy overload--and yeah.

I want to ask all my readers a favor though. If you could just answer this for me, it would help a lot!

When did you first realize Quatre was dead?

I was trying to make it seem like he had just left Trowa—like he was alive just not with Trowa anymore. If a lot of people say that they knew he was dead really early on, I'm going to rewrite this and try to make it better.

Thanks! Until next time!


End file.
